Never
by littleshimmerofhope
Summary: Sequel or 'Part Two' of my previous fic 'Meant to be'. "[...] Sometimes a nagging thought at the back of her head wondered if he disliked her because he was afraid she would take his best friend away from him. What she hadn't understood back then was that the depth of the feelings residing within the blonde directed at her husband were beyond those of simple 'freindship'." Oneshot


**Hey guys!** It's been a while. I apologise, but I've been busy with work and life in general. I was glad to see that many of you liked my fic _Meant to be_ , and I thank all of you who read, favourited, reviewed, and followed it. ( _Although it wa supposed to be a one-shot._ ) I've thought for a long time about making a sequel, or a "part two" that could still be a stand-alone fic, but also have a connection to _Meant to be_. I threw something together - it's has the same tone ( _AKA sort of sad_ ) as part one - but proceeds from a different perspective. So for you who've read part one, be prepared that it will differ slightly from the last one.

 **This story is set in AU**  
 **It is written from Sakura's perspective** **.**  
 **If you want to read part one** , you can find it on my profile under the title _"Meant to be."_  
Enjoy~

©Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto

* * *

Setting the glass of water down, the pink haired woman carefully eyed the state of the blonde currently seated at her table. His tan cheeks were flushed, his blonde locks an unruly mess, the collar of his shirt wrinkled, and he reeked of alcohol. Inspecting the highly intoxicated man brought forth the familiar feeling of dread-laced worry within her and she frowned.

"Geez." She mumbled irritably under her breath as she brought her hand up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose, massaging slightly in a hopeless attempt to halt her oncoming headache.

"You can't keep coming here. You understand this, don't you?" She addressed the blonde male who still had made no motion to drink the offered water. If he'd heard her, he made no show of it.

It wasn't the first time the blonde had stumbled over their doorstep completely wasted late in the evening, and it wasn't the first time she'd had to lead him to their kitchen table. The pink haired woman had never – _and would never_ – turn the man away, but the unschedueled visits were becoming a regular occurance, and she was getting tired of them.

As her green eyes rested on the pitiful male at the table she could feel an invisible hand grip her stomach and slowly twist it. She swallowed the lump in her troath, and raised her voice.

"He's not here."

The blonde shifted, his drunk slurring quietening down. Certain that the blonde was listening to her now she made another attempt.

"Naruto, please… You can't keep coming here like this. You have to go home. Please, you have to understand." She begged, praying that her voice would reach him and have him finally cease with his destructive behaviour. When the blonde offered no reply, she let her shoulders fall dejectedly.

She tried to be patient with him, but he always made it that much more difficult for her that, in the end, they were never able to get along. She wondered if the blonde hated her. She could tell from all the times he showed up at their place in this state that something was eating away at him, and she supsected that she, somehow, was part of the cause.

When she had met her husband for the first time in college, the blonde had stood proudly at his side. The pink haired pinpointed him as her future-to-be husband's best friend since the two were always seen together, laughing, talking, or pushing at each other back then. They had been practically inseperable, she was told – until she had come along.

Not many weeks of dating had passed before she started to take notice of the nasty looks the blonde would throw her whenever her husband wasn't looking. Back then she shrugged it off as envy from the blonde's side because his best friend had gotten himself a girlfriend before himself, but sometimes a nagging thought at the back of her head wondered if he disliked her because he was afraid she would take his best friend away from him.

What she hadn't understood back then was that the depth of the feelings residing within the blonde directed at her husband were beyond those of simple 'freindship'.

Turning towards the counter, she set about putting away the dishes from the night's dinner, thankful for the distraction and the sounds that could fill the otherwise silent room.

Losing track of time while doing the mundane task, she shrieked loudly when a hand suddenly graced her upper arm. Whipping her head around, her wide eyes found two equally shocked blue ones. The hand that had touched her shot back as if burned by her sudden reaction.

"S-sorry." The blonde slurred heavily, looking completely out of commission as he blinked at her. The pink haired woman breathed slowly to calm her racing heart.

"Y-you scared me!" She accused half-heartedly, her shock wearing off. The blonde studied her from up close, and she felt somewhat uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Did you drink the water?" She asked, shrugging off the wierd atmosphere that was forming between them.

"Yeah. Thank you." Glancing past his taller built, she could spot the empty glass left on the table.

She moved around him and retrieved it, bringing it back to the sink and filling once more. She shut the tap off and turned to the blonde and held the glass out for him to take. He ignored the offered water and stared at her face. Meeting the intense gaze, a shiver travveled down her spine. She swallowed, growing uncomfortable by the attention.

Just as she was about to give up and put the glass down on the counter, his hand closed around her fingers and took it from her grasp. She quickly pulled away from his touch and distracted herself with putting the pans back into their respective drawers.

The blonde finished the second glass and surprised her when he moved to her side at the sink and grabbed the washing cloth, turning on the tap. She watched his hands work in silence. When he turned the water off she could tell his eyes were searching for a towel to dry the glass with.

"Here. I'll do it." She took it from his hands and made quick work of drying the glass, and putting it back into the cabinet above them.

Without anything to further occupy them, they remained standing side by side in front of the sink in silence.

The pink hair had her eyes closed, trying to will herself out of being in loss of how to proceed through taking slow, deep breaths through her nose. Without a solution to their dilema, she reopened her eyes and turned towards the man, only to startle at how close he was standing to her. Her nose scrunched up at the sharp smell of alcohol and she withrew hastily from the other. His previously unfocused eyes were still somewhat clouded, but the intensity of which they burned her with caused the man to look a lot more sober than he had only a few minutes ago. She shrunk under his stare, her heart pounding loudly in her chest.

"What?" She spat, licking her dry lips. The atmosphere between them was suffocating, and a dreadfull feeling had taken hold of the pink haired woman. The blonde swayed somewhat on the spot, half-leaning against the counter, before he pushed himself off and advanced towards her. A small part of her brain tugged at her to move back and put more distance between them, but she stubbornly remained where she was.

The blonde stopped in front of her – _too close_. She flinched when his hand came up and grasped her chin, tilting her face slightly backwards. Her green eyes burned as she alerted watched him study her face, his blue eyes raking over her features. Their proximity irritated her, and the feeling seemed mutual, she discovered, as she watched a frown make it's way onto the blonde man's face. Finally he released her chin and she reciprocated the unsatisfied glare she was receiving. She barely caught it, but because they were pressed up against each other she heard what the male mumbled under his breath.

"You're not very pretty."

The slap echoed through the room and the blonde's head whipped to the side from the force. The skin was quick to bruise, an irritated red colour appearing and spreading across the blonde's cheek. The pink haired's hand stung, her fingers reddening as well as her cheeks as her eyes flashed furiously. Her breathing was shaky from anger mixed with slight shock from her own actions, but she didn't feel the least remourseful.

It took the drunk a long while to collect himself after the slap, and the pink haired woman took this time to force herself to stop shaking, reaffirming that the two of them would probably never truly get along.

When the blonde finally lifted his head, his eyes held no anger – rather, his expression was one of suffering, and the female almost pitied him.

"Fuck…" His voice was shaky and quiet, but then it seemed as if the last straw had been drawn. "Fuck!" He hollered, the pink haired flinching away from the angry outburst. The blonde slammed a fist onto the counter, and she watched catiously as his face contorted into a menacing scowl. "I don't understand!" And then his facial expression softened, agony replacing the anger.

"I don't understand…" He repeated in a softer tone, his body shaking and his fists clenched. "I don't understand why. I don't get it." Blue eyes pierced into green, as if searching for answers that were nowhere to be found. A hopeless smile ghosted the blonde's lips as an empty chuckle shakily escaped between them as he regarded her. "What the hell's so great about you anyway?"

She didn't know how to react, simply staring intently as the male before her crumbled, feeling her heart clench at the sight and a lump forming in her troath as she regarded him with pity. But there was also anger pulsing through her, his words cutting into her and egging her on, forcing her closer and closer to the edge before she would snap. She attempted to remain calm despite how livid she felt within, her fists shaking at her sides, repeating in her head that the blonde was intoxicated.

"I will ask you nicely once more, Naruto. Please. Leave." She bit out, curt and to the point. She would not stand for the man to invade her home, wasted beyond belief, becoming violent and threatening her. Blue eyes watched her lazily, unbothered by her request. The man opened his mouth, seemingly debating within himself. Then, finally, he came to a decision. His piercing gaze focused on hers, and she could almost swear he looked completely sober for just a few moments.

"He doesn't love you."

The second slap must have stung greatly since she struck the same cheek as she had the first time. This time the blonde winced, finding support against the counter to keep himself from toppling onto the floor.

The pink haired had had enough. She'd always shared a mutual dislike with the blonde, but she had always let him in whenever he came knocking on a cold night, feeling as if she owed it too him since she had figured out long ago that she was part of the reason he was drowning himself in alcohol to begin with. It'd be farstretched to say she understood him, but she pitied him, and had thus put up with his behaviour despite their rocky almost non-existent relationship. But it was getting tedious, and each visit became worse than the last, and now it had reached a point where she felt no further obligation to be nice.

"Get out." She hissed between clenched teeth, her cheeks flushed from anger and her green eyes blazing poisonously. Venom laced her words and any friendliness she had put up was long gone. "Get out!" She screamed, pointing in the direction of the entrence.

The blonde had brought a hand up to lightly trace his swelling cheekbone, and his face was still twisted in pain. Finding his footing, he stood up straight ( _as straight as one could with alcohol coursing through one's vein_ s), his eyes locking at the small woman's form as he unsteadely inched backwards. His face shifted to a somewhat neutral expression, his eyes huge and glossy.

"… I'm sorry." He slurred slightly. The pink haired shook her head, indicating she wouldn't have it. When she didn't budge, the man started to appear upset, desperation weaving into his voice. "Sakura – " Her livid look cut him off, and he realised she wouldn't hesitate to get seriously voilent if he didn't leave. But he couldn't.

"I want to see him." The blonde's voice was small, and as he stood there, cheek severely bruised, his hair ruffled, his clothes wrinkled, reeking of alcohol, the woman thought of him as a hopeless child. She was still shaking from anger, and she was still determined to kick him out – with force, if needed – but facing his desperation and hopelessness, she felt as her troath constricted. Even so, she had to break him. So she swallowed her guilt and answered.

"No."

And that was final.

She stood in the same spot for a long ten minutes after the blonde had left, debating within herself if she had done the right thing, but in the end she came up with the answer that she couldn't have done anything differently to avoid suffering on any of their parts.

Life wasn't a fairytale, and everyone did not end up happily ever after. There was pain, tears, suffering, guilt, and anger – sometimes everything all mixed into a single feeling of pure despair.

She no longer had reason, but Sakura found a single tear making it's way down her cheek. If she was crying for herself, Naruto, or for her husband, she did not know. Maybe she shed tears for all of them, because within her, she knew that their ending would never be truly happy.


End file.
